The Castle on the Hill
by beingxwest
Summary: An example for all the world to see-a castle on a hill. - After the fall of the Valkyrie, Odin implements a new guard-the Aelle Archis. OR Thor and Loki learn to make friends with people who are from somewhere else entirely but may be somewhat like them. (Lots of OCs and lots of big-time brotps)
1. T H E F I R ST

T H E F I R S T

The first time he saw her, she was standing across the ballroom, eyes trailing after a couple elegantly crossing the dance floor. He would later learn that the couple was comprised of her twin brother and a lady of Odin's court--he could not be bothered to remember her name--that would be promptly dismissed the following day.

She had been wearing a red dress--a sparkly belt around her waist that had to be at least three inches wide provided the only embellishment. It tied behind her neck, and reached the floor. Her toes were visible beneath the edge of the fabric, and a shimmering red heel could be seen when she lifted the folds of her dress to make walking easier.

Thor had had an obvious crush on her from the moment that he saw her. While she was beautiful--gorgeous, certainly. The most beautiful girl in the room that night, and perhaps the most beautiful girl that he had ever laid eyes on--Loki doubted that Thor's crush had much to do with her beauty.

The sword she had worn strapped to her back probably had more of an effect on his brother than anything else.

She looked up to meet Loki's eyes only once that night. Hers were sparkling blue, bluer than the Asgardian sky on the best day of the year. Bluer than anything he had ever seen. A corner of her mouth tilted up in surprise--was she not accustomed to being stared at? Given her looks--aside from her beauty, her clothes spoke of wealth and the sword strapped to her back labeled her as one of the few female warriors in the room--this was not a girl who could escape anyone's eyes.

Her gaze drifted back to the couple she had been watching. Their state was obviously of import to her, but she bore enough of a resemblance to the boy whom she was watching that he could guess that they were related. He wondered what she thought of his dancing partner. He wondered how she felt about being very clearly abandoned by her relative.

He wondered what her sense of humor was like.

Forget the side of caution. A smirk fought it's way onto his face, and as soon as she looked back at him, he snapped his fingers.

The couple, now in the middle of the dance floor, found themselves glued to the floor.

And the boy, clearly aware of what was happening, stopped in his tracks. His eyes flew to the girl, an eyebrow raised, a smirk of his own developing on his face. This was an "Are you serious?" expression if the Asgardian had ever seen one. The girl he was dancing with was not so lucky--she was not expecting anything, and kept moving. And fell.

Flat on the floor.

Silence spread throughout the room. It hit like a wave, traveling from the center of the circle that had crowded around them and back. Other ball-goers had begun to look around, trying to figure out what had caused the sudden change in atmosphere.

There was a shuffling behind Loki--Thor, he thought, rolling his eyes and trying to hide a groan. He slid his gaze back to the girl.

A small smile on her face, she raised a glass that he hadn't realized she was holding roughly to her shoulder. After tipping it towards him a fraction of an inch, and widening her smile to level: dazzling, she chugged it's contents and shouted: "Another!"

Loki, too, tipped his head back and laughed. By the time Thor reached his side, the male of the dancers had vanished from the center of the dance floor, and the girl was gone from where she had been standing.

"Are you serious, Loki? Why would you--?" a voice whisper-yelled in his ear. Had it been anyone else, he would've sent them flying back into the stairwell behind him. His brother's presence, however, was a significant one--he could feel it, the calm push and pull of his brother.

"What makes you think that I would do something so... immature?"

He could feel his brother's eyeroll. There was a pause as they both looked towards where the girl was being helped from the floor by a pair of guards.

"I know it was you. And it was not funny."

Loki only allowed himself to smile once his brother had disappeared back into the crowd to distract their father's subjects from the prank. (They didn't know it was a prank, so he couldn't really call it that, could he?)

Of course Thor knew it was him. And many (many, many, many) years later, he would find it very funny.


	2. T H E S E C O N D

T H E S E C O N D

The second time he saw her, it had been a year, and she was entering the ballroom surrounded by warriors like herself.

All of them were dressed for the party--sleek, polished formal wear accented by a visible weapon or two apiece. The girl was wearing a floor length black dress, sparkling like stars in the night sky. Standing next to her was the boy who had been on the receiving end of his prank at their last appearance at a ball.

The voice of the presenting officer was sharp, loud, clear. The steady tone of his voice rang out across the room as he introduced the two at the front of the party. "And now presenting--the captains of the Aelle Archis, the Aelle twins, the Lord and Lady Aelle!" They made their way down the stairs, eyes focused straight ahead, but mouths moving as they whispered to one another in nearly silent voices. To anyone watching, they might as well have been muttering to themselves.

After they reached the bottom of the stairs, they bowed and curtsied (respectively) in the direction of Odin's throne on the other side of the room. The king waved at them, rose to his feet, and raised his glass high in the air. "To the Aelle Archis, who shall protect our people alongside my sons as we guide Asgard into a new age of light and prosperity!"

Whispers broke out amongst the gathered crowd. The rest of the Aelle Archis made their way to stand directly behind their leaders.

These people were not all Asgardians.

Sure, some of them were. But not all of them. And definitely not the leaders.

Loki and Thor, stationed on either side of the king, shared a look. Who are they? read Thor's eyes.

All Loki could give his elder brother was a nearly imperceptible shrug.

"We are proud, people of Asgard," the male captain said. The room once again fell silent. Odin did not look offended, though the eyes of the female captain trailed across the room to make sure her brother hadn't overstepped. "We are proud to protect your lands."

"They are not yours to protect!" someone shouted from the back of the crowd.

The girl's lips quirked to the side before evening out into a sickly sweet smile. Her pause had given the crowd an opportunity to began whispering again, and it only got worse when she drew her sword. They had expected her to defend her brother quicklier--and sans the blade, most likely. "It does not matter. You are people, people of Odin and his noble sons"--her eyes flew to Loki then, and a wicked flicker in them almost had the younger prince laughing aloud--"as we once had people. Now we, too, hope to join your people. The noble Asgardians would certainly never turn away those who only wish to share and protect their prosperity."

She took a breath, opened her mouth to continue speaking, but whirled around, blade slicing through the air above her head, before she got the chance to say anything. Her brother moved a fraction of a second after she did. Their response to whatever invisible threat lurked behind them startled the crowd once more.

Thor flung himself down the stairs that led up to the dais on which they stood, drawing a blade of his own in the same motion. He rolled to the ground and bsck to his feet as he reached the leaders of the Aelle Archis.

Together, the captains grabbed a ghostly black--not material, not tangible, not a person, but a spirit--and tossed it at Thor's feet.

Loki did not have time to wonder how they'd grabbed it--it did not seem to be tangible, so how had they found purchase on it?--as he was following his father and a group of guards after his elder brother.

"You have an intruder," the Lord Aelle lazily smirked.

Odin nodded, once again raising his goblet in the air. "The Aelle Archis! Already saving my court once!"

"Twice, I think," Loki heard one of the Aelle Archis lieutenants mutter to the captains, who both chuckled. He raised an eyebrow, but did not care to ask what the first time had been. That was, doubtlessly, how they had come by their position.

With his free hand, Odin motioned for the spirit thing to be dealt with and taken away. Thor stepped aside so that a sorceror could work out how to make that happen, but the Lady Aelle stepped forward. "No need. Do you have an ice-wielder among you?" Thor noticed her hand, still clenching the almost physical shape of the spirit.

An ice-wielder? Loki thought.

His brother, clearly thinking the same thing, met his eyes and nodded imperceptibly.

Thor turned his attention back to the Aelles. "We do not."

"Correction, brother." Loki chuckled--he just couldn't help himself. The joke was too good to pass up, and he didn't know if Thor had caught on or not. "I believe we have one."

"What is this, Lady Aelle?" Odin dorected his question--that he knew the answer to, most likely, but chose to ask for the benefit of the crowd--to the female captain, who seemed paler then she had a moment before. Her brother and two of the lieutenants had stepped closer to her.

"A Shadow."

"A Shadow?"

"They are assasssins from another realm. Demons." She wiped her free hand down her arm, exhaled through her nose. "Evidently, our visitor isn't powerful enough to be... tangible."

Her brother moved closer, as if prelaring to catch her should she faint.

"Demon-spirit-assassins," he clarified, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards in a put-off sort-of way.

"Oh," Odin said. "Naturally."

"Naturally," Lady Aelle grimaced, her hand flying to her brother's shoulder.

Loki realized what the problem was--she was the ice-wielder. And she was holding the intruder in place.

And she was running out of energy.

Frigga was not there to use her trove of magical wisdom to solve the problem, he realized. It was up to him to--

Yes.

That was exactly what he was going to do.

··§··

Twenty minutes later, the issue had been resolved, though several of the partygoers had briefly been frightened for their lives, and some of the guards had reverted to the kind of exasperated expressions that they hadn't produced for his (and his brothers) antics since he was much younger.

It didn't really _matter_ what he did, see.

The most important part of the entire thing was that the Lady Aelle recovered spectacularly, and even led the next dances across the ballroom floor with the man that stood directly behind her in their formation line. People stopped to observe as they made a path around the other dancers--both were incredibly light on their feet, and amazing dancers. Neither missed a single step or beat, or even appeared to be out of breath. The Lady Aelle even had a smile on her face--smiling, this girl could've outdone the sun and every star Loki had ever seen in his life--and threw her head back in a gentle and graceful, yet hearty, laugh at something her partner said.

She moved on to Thor by the fourth dance, something slower, as her previous partner moved onto a gaggle of giggling ladies of the court that had been fawning over Loki's elder brother before the apparent swap. Loki watched the couple with an amused interest--his brother couldn't dance to save his life.

Loki Laufeyson threw his head back and laughed at the very moment the Lady Aelle appeared to figure this out.

He traded his mostly empty glass for another, downed it's contents, and headed into the fray of swirling dancers, narrowly avoiding three young girls who were twirling on their toes. The older girl who was instructing them gave a small curtsy and a warm smile in thanks, dipping her head in acknowledgement of his position within the royal family. She appeared to be around his age, so he winked in return.

The girl blushed, curtsied a little lower. She motioned for her students to do the same, and a set of three matching gaces turned to give him clumsy (but well-attempted) curtsies. He smiled at them kindly, bowed almost to the floor (they giggled at this, all three of them, bright matching smiles overtaking their faces), and continued on his way.

The music was reaching it's peak volume and speed as he relocated his brother and his dance partner. Just in time, of course, to see Thor attempt the dramatic lift-and-spin combo that only the most experienced dancers did easily. He missed a difficult patch of footwork that left him behind the other dancers--

and he _careened_ into another couple, that was also, coincidentally, trying the lift--

and _dropped_ the Lady Aelle--

and all four of them _landed on the floor._

Odin's boisterous laughter echoed from the other side of the room, and Loki joined in. Once Thor found his way to his feet, and male Aelle and the man that had accompianed the Lady Aelle earlier rushed to help the female Aelle to her feet (only to find Thor already mid-pulling her upright), everyone joined in.

"Brother," Loki chuckled, at his side then. "Do us all a favor--"

A humorously offended Lady Aelle cut him off, the bite vanishing from her words as she laughed: "And learn to dance!"


	3. T H E T H I R D

The third time Loki saw her was the first time he'd ever truly seen her up close in the light and without any of the jewels or makeup or fancy clothing she had donned for the balls.

She was beautiful.

Her skin was still pale, her hair still dark, and her eyes a color bluer than the Asgardian sky on the most beautiful day of the year. Her lips were bright red, though Loki suspected that had more to do with a small amount of lipstick than their actual color. Her hair was braided down her back, swinging as she walked. He wouldn't have noticed it had her hair been lighter, but the small diamonds that she had woven into her braid stood out, especially in the light.

The Asgardian prince hung back in the doorway, watching as she stretched and then began her training. She swung her sword expertly, as if it weighed nothing at all. The Lady Aelle flipped and leapt this way and that across the training mat. The jewels in her hair reflected the light from above, and sent new patterns on the ceiling and surrounding walls with each step.

Though he would never admit it, he jumped a bit when she spoke. She had kept moving, never stopping, not even to speak. The Lady didn't even seem out of breath.

"Are you going to"--she flipped in mid-air, bringing her sword down in a frightening slice--"continue staring"--and at a speed that should not have been possible (or, at any rate, _allowed)_ , the Lady twisted and planted her feet so that she was facing him--"at me, Prince of Asgard?" She flashed him a particularly intrigued smile. "Or are you going to join me?"

Loki laughed--a real laugh, the kind reserved for his brother and the few people he chose to hold close to his heart. Those were very rare.

It appeared that she would become one of them.

"Would you like me to join you, Lady Aelle?" The smile that spread itself across his face wasn't harsh, and his tone sounded abnormally kind. Usually his voice was biting, his remarks scathing.

"Only if you never call me that ever again."

This caught the prince off guard. He was good enough at hiding his emotions now that she most likely couldn't tell, but he chose to press anyway. It would cover any surprise he didn't intend for her to see if he could keep her talking. He was curious, though. A Lady who did not like her title?

Interesting.

"Why ever not?"

"My birthright was not to be a _lady_ , Prince." Her tone practically had teeth and claws to go with it. Seconds later, her expression twisted just enough to be noticed.

Loki's eyebrows raised of their own accord, even as he noted the shadows that seemed to be swirling behind her eyes. Something was there, he supposed, haunting her, the way his own shadows haunted him.

It was certainly something to put away in the back of his mind for later. If he hadn't liked her so much, he most likely would have let it go, but... She reminded him too much of himself, maybe, and so he gave her another smile--this one amused, but not in the sharp or dangerous his usual one was.

Rather than feign a moment of consideration--to let her squirm--as he would have with nearly anyone else (after giving her that smile, he'd already put some of his cards on the table, and he had a feeling that she would be less than amused by the ruse, given her apparent mood), he chose to meet her eyes. He freed his daggers (the blades shiny, sharp, the best silver Thor could've found for his birthday the year before, and as both as long as his forearm) from his belt as he spoke.

Seeing him unsheathing daggers, she dropped her sword at the edge of the mat in a gentle manner that made little sense to the prince, given the surrounding tables and racks she could have put to use. Further proving the point, she turned to face a standing blade holder. The weapons rack she was looking at bore the looping, swirling crest of the Aelle Archis. Engraved down the side, the design enlayed with beautiful gems, and Loki realized it must have been brought with them to Asgard. The craftsmanship of his home was indeed fine, but nothing like that.

Even as her back was to him, he began speaking. Maybe she didn't think he would agree. Maybe she thought him so shallow. _Many people do,_ he reminded himself.

"How about we make each other a promise, hm? No silly titles. You call me Loki, and I will call you...?"

 _How do I not know her name?_ the young prince asked himself. _How did I miss_ that

The female Captain of the Aelle Archis murmured something, but Loki couldn't make out what she was saying. Something with an "i" and an "o" sound, but he had no idea beyond that. _His_ name had both those things-- _oh, yes, what a friendship that would be. The Lokis. We could have a somewhat mediocre band_.

 _Oh, the possibilities,_ he thought to himself.

His gaze remained fixed on her as he tried to work it out, but she caught him staring and realized the issue. "Isolde," she repeated. Her voice gained some strength with sach syllable. "My name is Isolde."

"Then we'll make each other a promise, Isolde."

She locked eyes with him again. Her gaze was full of fire, wrath that would one day build or destroy, create or end. "Don't promise me anything..." There was a pause as she took a breath. "Loki, I find that people that make promises rarely keep to them, unless they know whoever they are promising as well as they know themselves."

The forgotten daggers in his hand became heavy as he thought about how to phrase what he wanted to say next. Offending her was a very obvious risk, but reversing the alienation she probably felt in this world that was new to her was well worth it. _Why did he care so much? Why did it matter to him?_ When the words came to him, he didn't waste time getting them out. "My brother isn't like that."

It sounded incredibly naïve. He regretted the words the moment he heard them aloud.

Isolde didn't seem to think so, though, because she simply replied, "Neither is mine."

A sudden understanding passed between them. They were more alike than Loki originally would have thought--both of them with their noble brothers, with their clear political talents, with their bright exteriors and glittering, fragile, powerful selves.

The prince had a sudden realization, then. They would get along well, he was sure, because they would understand each other through themselves. There was no need to explain away the actions of someone like you.

"Perhaps we could spar another time," he suggested, suddenly, not entirely sure why the words were coming out even as they did. And yet, he knew it was the right thing to do--she likely possessed the same interest for fighting as he did, and there was probably a better way to gain her friendship. "Have you been to the library?"

Isolde looked over at him then, ends of her mouth turned upwards only enough to be noticed. Her eyes were wide and blue and the light in them turned to the flickering warmth of the fire in the Great Hall where he and his brother had played as much younger children. "I've been trying to find it." She winced. Loki realized she thought she'd said too much, and simply raised his eyebrows in response. Begrudgingly, she explained, "I keep getting lost."

 _I'll have to ask Mother if there's anything we can do about that,_ the prince thought to himself. _In the meantime,..._

"I could give you a tour, if you'd like. It'a absolutely beautiful out, and the west side of the palace is mostly open-air."

Without another word, Isolde grabbed her sword and sheathed it in the scabbard that had been beside it. _Well, that explains that,_ Loki realized. She fastened it to her belt before looking up at him again. "I would like that very much."

"Then let's get going. You have to see the west balcony at exactly sunset," he said, replacing his own daggers under her watchful gaze. With a laugh, he offered, "I'll have my brother tell you where he found these things as well over dinner, if you'd like, as well."

Their laughter could be heard throughout the corridor as they left the training hall:

"He could tell _my_ brother. You and I have our own intellectual pursuits to..."

"Pursue?" the prince offered, amusement flitting across his face and staying there, somehow.

"Oh, yes, we have our _pursuits_ to _pursue,_ after all."

Loki blinked at her, tossing his head back in another laugh. Her eyes seemed to sparkle, almost, but tentatively--like she wasn't sure if it was a good idea to show him so much of herself, but like she was beyond caring and had thrown herself in head first.

Isolde sped up, moving a step in front of him. The smile she tossed over her shoulder said that she had caught him staring.


End file.
